


No Longer Alone

by mistraldespair



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aunt May Knows Peter is Spider-Man, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Mid-Credits Scene Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20035072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistraldespair/pseuds/mistraldespair
Summary: Peter enjoys a rare bonding moment with Mr. Stark and all it took to achieve it was Peter getting shot.





	No Longer Alone

**Author's Note:**

> It's taken me long enough but I am finally catching up with all of the MCU movies I haven't seen, and after viewing Captain America: Civil War last week I just had to write this story because, apparently, Peter and Tony father-son bonding moments are something I can't get enough of. Please disreguard all canon that comes after CA: CW as I've not yet seen it, so no doubt this fic is not canon compliant apart from the one detail of Aunt May knowing that Peter is Spider-Man by the end of Homecoming.
> 
> Please note that I am British English writing in an American fandom and this will probably show. If it does, don't hesitate to correct me if something doesn't sound quite right or is not spelled with American English. Feel free to point out anything else you consider to be erroneous too as I always welcome constructive criticism. 
> 
> With all that said, enjoy.

Disorientation hits him immediately, before he even opens his eyes.

He’s lying down, he knows that much, and it’s on a surface that’s clean, soft and warm so that’s a good sign. He just can’t focus his thoughts; it feels like his brain is swimming through treacle and can’t break the surface.

_Okay, okay. Not sure what’s happening here but stay calm._

He breathes deeply. 

In, out. In, out.

It helps, enough that he feels like he should open his eyes. Open eyes are good, even if he’s admittedly kind of uninterested in taking that step. He feels like he could sleep forever and kind of wants to. But he makes himself wake properly, and he does it quickly before he can change it mind.

He is blinded instantly.

Met by the brightest light he has ever seen, he groans and screws his eyes back shut. He lifts an arm to put across them for good measure but it turns out this is possibly the worst idea he’s ever had in his entire life. The pain from the slight movement makes such an impact the moan becomes almost a shout. 

Things go blank and then there is a flurry of activity, beeping noises and loud voices. Hands are on him, and instinct is to fight them off but he’s too weak and there are too many of them. Something is stuck into his left arm and he moans again, and then…

And then…

When Peter wakes up a second time it’s to someone talking, their voice low but irritated. They sound really pissed, actually, and Peter has a feeling it’s because of him. 

“No, no I don’t CARE how many meetings I have today. I told you, cancel them all…yes, I know I’ve been here two days already. No, I don’t know when – oh, shut up.”

That last part was muttered. There was the sound of something being dropped, or maybe thrown, and a deep sigh and then a pause.

“Of all the weeks for Pepper to take her vacation...”

A longer beat.

“Come on, kid. Time to quit slacking on the job. I can’t play world’s oldest babysitter forever.”

Mr. Stark. That’s Mr. Stark’s voice, Peter realises, although it sounds different. 

“They say you’re gonna be fine, you’ve just gotta wake up. So come on, for me.”

Mr. Stark’s voice cracks on that last word, and Peter is starting to realize that something’s happened and it’s probably bad. This is enough motivation for him to open his eyes and try to fill in the many, many gaps in his head.

“I’m…” his voice is so thin and scratchy he has to swallow and try again. “I’m – Mr. Stark, what’s happening?”

There is another sigh and a barely audible “Oh, thank God” and then Mr. Stark’s shouting for Dr. Banner, who must’ve been just outside because he’s by Peter in a flash.

Peter is in what he recognises as the Avengers med bay, as his sense of focus comes back to him slowly but surely. He’s sedated, all too familiar already in his young life with the feeling that comes from being given tranquilizer.

“What’s happening?” he asks again, a little stronger this time.

“You don’t remember?” and that’s Dr. Banner, who is examining him carefully and then insisting he have some water, which is promptly thrust into his hands. He has to be helped to drink it but it does feel good, Peter’s neglected throat relishing the fresh, cool liquid.

Feeling ever so slightly better, Peter tries to think back. The last thing he can remember is going to get groceries for Aunt May, and his data banks won't supply anything else between there and waking up here.

“Aunt May!” Peter worries, an image flashing in his mind of her at home freaking out over how he’d gone to the store and not come back. Mr. Stark had said something before about two days!

“Cool the engines, she knows,” Mr. Stark’s hand is on Peter’s chest, forcing him to stay down. “Well, she knows as much as the rest of us do. You still don’t remember what really happened?”

Because he wants to remember himself, Peter tries to mentally kick his brain into gear. There’s a heavy fog lingering and it’s pretty impenetrable but the seconds pass and things start to filter through and eventually Peter’s put the puzzle pieces together.

It was because of the smuggling ring Peter had been trying to bust. Had to be. He’d gotten too close to finding out who was aiding the dealers hanging around his school, supplying kids who had too much money and not enough parental guidance. So someone had tried to make sure he never got the chance to solve the mystery.

Peter doesn’t know who got the drop on him. He only remembers being confronted by a masked man as he turned into the alley he always took as a shortcut to the supermarket. He remembers, now, the sound of a single gunshot echoing in his ears as he hit the soggy pavement and how, before he’d passed out, that he’d really hoped this wasn’t the end. Not when things were getting so good after things had been so bad. Uncle Ben’s death was still and always would be a shadow over his life but Peter has Spider-Man now. He has the Avengers. The thought of being forced to checkout before he could really make a difference had upset him more than getting shot.

But he’s still here, and he wants to hug someone, anyone, but his body won’t allow it so he just smiles dopily and chuckles, like he’s just heard a really funny private joke.

“Did we give him too much of the good stuff?” Mr. Stark asks Banner with a slightly bemused frown, as Peter laughs a little hysterically.

Peter explains what had gone down and there is no more laughter for a while because Mr. Stark goes ballistic, more so than Peter’s ever seen, going on and on about unnecessary risks especially when just dressed in civvies and it’s so hypocritical Peter could scream but he knows, deep down, that it’s coming from a place of…dare he think it, **_affection_**. It could just as easily be May standing there ranting, and Peter gets it. As much as it frustrates him to be constantly reminded of the fact, he really is ‘just’ a kid and other kids do not get into these situations. 

“Can I see Aunt May?” he begs, because another part of being a kid is needing that person who makes you feel safer than anyone and he’s not ashamed to admit to himself how much he wants that mama bear hug already. 

Mr. Stark has calmed down, and looks to Banner. Deciding if Peter’s fit for visitors is the doctor’s job.

“She’s been sleeping down the hall, I’ll get her,” says Banner and leaves to do so.

There’s an awkward silence when Peter and Mr. Stark are alone. Mr. Stark’s still mad, but it’s a quieter anger like when something cooking is simmering gently on the stove. Peter finds that scarier than the full-blown ragey lectures, somehow.

“You know, the others ell me I’m crazy for letting you be on the team pretty much the _all the time_,” begins Mr. Stark and his voice takes on a different tone, one Peter’s not really heard before. “Rhodey’s new favorite thing to do is threaten me with child protective services at least once a day.”

Peter manages a wry smile. He can hear the banter in his head, having already gotten so familiar with the team’s verbal sparring matches.

“But I push back,” continues Mr. Stark “because I know how capable you are.”

Wait, is that a compliment? Maybe it’s the anaesthesia and Peter mishears. What used to be his wits feel like soup, maybe he's processing things incorrectly. He could also be dreaming. Probably hadn’t even woken up at all. Yeah, that had to be it.

“Except now,” Mr. Stark goes on “I’m starting to think he has a point, when you take a risk as dumb as this one.”

Peter would sigh deeply himself if he didn’t think it would hurt.

“Someone had to stop it. Kids could have died,” he protests.

“You did,” Mr. Stark growls, and Peter senses the anger building again. “You flatlined on the table. Banner was ready to give up but I said Peter Parker was too stubborn to quit, ever.”

“I didn’t go out of my to get shot. It’s not like I put ‘get shot’ on my to do list that morning,” protests Peter, getting increasingly irritated because yet again he’s still relentlessly being treated like a kid, and okay so he technically is one but he’s not a normal kid and that should earn him the right to have people back off sometimes.

“You were investigating criminal gangs on civvy time. That stuff’s a job for the cops not a high schooler.”

“Kids at my high school were getting in serious trouble. It was only a matter of time before something went really, really wrong and no one else seemed to give a damn, like at all.”

Mr. Stark makes an exhausted groaning sound and rubs his face. It’s then Peter sees how tired the older man looks. More tired than Peter had ever seen him, and he can tell Mr. Stark hasn’t changed clothes for as long as Peter had been unconscious. 

Peter’s heart flutters, as he begins to understand what Mr. Stark is _really_ saying.

“I just needed to do something,” Peter says, quieter now. He's getting tired, his eyelids doing their best to close again. 

A mirror of the understanding Peter feels for Mr. Stark appears on his mentor’s face. Mr. Stark even smiles, though so small most would have failed to notice.

“You’re a good kid,” he responds, and he reaches out and gives Peter’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“I want to sleep now,” Peter admits, a yawn refusing to be held back. “Then I want to see May. Is she - ”

“She’s holding up. Your aunt is one of the strongest people I’ve ever seen.”

Peter nods, and lets free another yawn.

“Okay, go to sleep. Just enjoy it because the moment Banner lets me I’m going to have you back to training so hard you won’t have time to so much as nap.”

Peter is already drifting off, so he doesn’t answer. He just lets himself enjoy the feeling of being cared about when Mr. Stark squeezes his arm again and the last thing on Peter’s mind as he slips back under is how awesome being an Avenger and having a team really is.


End file.
